LXG: Gevaudan
by droolingfanfemme
Summary: Chapter 3 Dreams of the past and the mission clarified.
1. Homecomings

This takes place after the movie. Obviously I don't own what's not mine. Enjoy!

May, 1900. London.

The remains of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen had returned to the old museum on a typical dreary British afternoon. Nemo had docked the Nautilus expertly, his crew almost as well rehearsed and employed as the machinery they worked every minute. Since their travel in Mongolia, the members of the team had been staying mostly to themselves, with the odd meeting every now and again for dinner on the second deck or in a hallway. Nemo donned a white jacket and turban, a sign of mourning in his culture. He left his scimitar on private altar. Kali's grace had come at too high a price this time. He salaamed in forgiveness as he locked the door silently.

He approached the door of Mrs Harker and knocked quietly.

"Come in, it's open," came a soft voice. He turned the silver knob slowly, knowing she liked a little time to arrange herself before actually allowing visitors. Was standing over her boxes of vials and powders, wrapping them for safe transport, her black veil covering her icy blue eyes, a state of permanent mourning.

"We have arrived in London," the captain stated, clearing his throat slightly. "I should like to go ashore at one o'clock, if that is permissible, Mrs. Harker." Mina stood for a moment in some other place, perhaps remembering the departure that brought all of this about.

"Thank you, Captain," she returned, facing him out of respect. "I expect I shan't be more thanfifteen minutes here."

"Please, take your time," he assured her. "We shall all meet in dining room." He bowed and left to tend to his other passengers. Mina blinked back a tear as the door clicked shut. Sure, Quartermain was one of the most misogynistic egotist she ever had the misfortune of meeting, but it was wrong to speak ill of the dead. And he did have his strong points; a strong and capable leader, damn good shot, she thought to herself, and the only one among them who, for the most part, had no supernatural abilities. All his talents and attributes were what he was born or blessed with.

She came out of her memories, a bit renewed and set back to the task at hand. A wayward tear dropped onto the tissue paper she had been holding. The poor boy had lost his only light and now fumbled blindy in the dark. She felt as if she had as well.

Nemo next came upon Mr Rodney Skinner, only seen by the familiar floating black hat and leather slicker. An empty sleeve rose up and hailed Nemo as he approached. "Are you all packed, Mr Skinner?"

"Not like I have much with me, but yeah, I'm ready to get off this thing as soon as the time merits," came the wry cockney response, as always. "I'd rather like to get back to work in my old neighbourhood."

Nemo begrudgingly nodded. Even in his new compatriot's "occupation" consisted of midnight robberies and pinching women unseen in broad daylight, he was more noble than all of them had first thought in Venice. "Well, we shall be leaving in an hour or so. Please make an appearance on the dining deck before departure."

"Leaving me with all the silver, Nemo? That's not like you."

"Mr Skinner, where would you hide them?" The Indian took his leave and turned the corner once more, to gaze on the room that was Quartermain's. He made sure none of his stewards removed anything and none of the League were strong enough, even the young Sawyer, to go inside. He felt his heart sink a little at the remembrance of the man and continued past the room solemnly. _The old tiger had been his most fierce at the end_, he said to himself.

The door to Agent Sawyer's room was wide open, light flooding the hall. Nemo stood silently and observed the young man unnoticed. His shaggy blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, braces trailing behind him shirt sleeves rolled up, collar undone. Even if American, he seemed more disheveled than usual. A knock on the doorjamb brought him out of whatever thought was running through his mind. He turned quickly like a little boy to the visitor at his door. His face fell a little when he saw it was Nemo.

"Hello, Captain," he drawled brightly nonetheless. "Haven't seen much of you lately. What's the occasion?"

Nemo simply said in a softer voice, "We have arrived, Agent Sawyer."

The young man's eyes darkened and turned down. "Oh, …um, thank you."

"We'll disembark at one o'clock. Dining room."

"Right." The captain stood there for a moment, regarding him and turned to inform the last surviving member. Sawyer sat back down in his chair, out of breath. The terrible event played through his head every minute of every day over and over. _There was more I could've done. I wasn't fast enough_, he choked to himself. Even in his own head, he couldn't breathe. Allan, his hero, sat, breathing his last, bequeathing the new century to him. _Something could've been done_.

His pistols sat on the bureau in the tattered holsters, the modified rifle lay on his bed. Allan Quartermain, leader of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen was gone. He got to his feet only to close the door and cried silently to himself with the ghost of regret standing at his side.

Nemo had come to the final room. It was far removed considering the proximity of the other rooms, but Doctor Jekyll didn't seem to mind, or at least did not voice his disappointment. Captain Nemo carefully listened at the door. The was no "discussion" coming from the interior, which was a good sign. He knocked on the door. "Doctor Jekyll?" There was the sound of the sudden movement, a chair being pushed back, and a lock being undone. There had been no installation of locks on the others' doors, but he said it had been done for everyone's well being. Henry Jekyll was, needless to say, a nervous individual.

"Yes, Captain?" He stood taller than his host, but with was now slightly stooping over. His hand absently went for the pocket watch in his vest pocket.

"Doctor Jekyll, we've made to London. Shall I send a steward to collect your things for departure?"

His eyes widened slightly. "No I'll take care of it. Th-thank you though," he managed to get out.

"We'll all be meeting in the dining room in an hour, Doctor. Until then." The doctor smiled, glancing downward at the watch, open already. Nemo returned the smile and made his way back to the helm. He had learned over the past six months to make sure he always addressed the man by his title, not just out of respect, but to help remind him who he was. Doctor Jekyll suffered greatly, supporting two personalities in the thin frame. He also knew the man never allowed another to do for him what he was capable of doing himself, but always asked. After silent dinners, he was the last one out, helping to clear dishes. A kind man who helped others. His other side was not so charitable.

The door closed and was relocked, out of habit. Jekyll sighed, half worried, half contented. London. Home. I'm home. It had been so long since he had seen the bustling city. The gold watch was his only link to it, the only thing aside from his supplies he had stolen from his own home fleeing the jurisdiction. Quartermain-Allan rather- had given Hyde and himself a reason for joining: a chance to come home.

"Ah, home sweet home," growled the voice inside him. Hyde was the reason for leaving, but he blamed himself for finding him. "I can still hear the screams, Henry. Like violins." His other half was disturbing and primal, but always knew how to express it's macabre sense of humor. "Can you hear them, Henry? Can you?"

"Yes I can, Edward." The darker force laughed uproariously as the physician tried to block it out. He picked up a couple of his valises and stacked them atop his steamer trunk, now outfitted with small ball-bearing wheels, another of Nemo's small, but time-saving devices, and rolled it down the hall, trying to decide how to get it down the flight of stairs.

The hour passed slowly on the ship, like they were all deep underwater, moving at half speed. Skinner, who had been in the dining room most of this time, was reading a newspaper one of the stewards had purchased at the wharf. The headline read **"WORLD SAVED!"** in big block lettering. "Leave it to the British to take all the surprise out of everything," he grumbled to himself, putting the paper down. He saw Mina coming down the passageway, statuesque and tragic.

"Oy, Mina!" he greeted her jovially, trying to make her smile. She hadn't fed in quite some time, a couple of weeks, so provoking her was not on his list of things to do.

She tried her best to be cheerful under the circumstances. "Hello, Mister Skinner." She spotted the large print of the paper and her gaze softened a bit. A couple of stewards behind her brought her bags and her trunk with them, struggling with them. The parade continued with the good doctor on his third trip down with his belongings. His black waist coat was sitting over his arm, newly-pressed shirt already rolled up to his elbows and his hair was shiny with a bit of sweat.

Mina thanked the stewards and they quickly grabbed Jekyll's jacket, sleeve the only thing hanging over his arm as he set down the last two bags. He plucked the white handkerchief from his vest and dabbed his face. As he brought it down, he had the fortune to met Mrs Harker's sky blue gaze. Jekyll nodded politely in her direction and blushed slightly as it was courteously returned. Hyde's face in the cool reflection of the large glass inlay smirked, but went unnoticed. His other side had other things on his mind.

The familiar step of boot clicks came down the passageway as the young agent stepped into the dining room. The older members looked on him, inwardly pitying the apprentice with no master. He had only his brown leather duster and his hat with him and had brought nothing down stairs.

Skinner felt it was his duty to break the silence. "Hey, get a load of this," he called to the boy, tossing him the newspaper. He caught it and scanned the headline.

"Good news travels fast, doesn't it?" he said at length, finishing the article. Mina had been standing behind him reading over his shoulder. He turned the other way, unable to even look the beautiful woman in the eye. _He's just depressed_, she thought to herself. _You are intimidating. He just needs his time to grieve_. Her thoughts turned to her husband. _God rest his soul._

Nemo came from the bridge and met with the rest of the League. Jekyll was the first to shake his hand. "Well done, Captain, we've made it home in one piece."

The Indian said proudly, "Nautilus saw that we did. I merely tell her where to go."

The old clock on the faux mantle chimed the hour and the large room echoed. The five looked among themselves and stood silently, a makeshift moment of silence for their fallen leader. Even the invisible man's grease paint make-up ran from a missed tear. There was a rumbling deep within the gargantuan submersible, as if Nautilus herself was voicing its sorrow.

"We should be on our way," the Captain said at length. "We have much to do today." The rest nodded in agreement and began the hike down to the cargo bay, two decks downward. To whom would they be reporting? The thought had crossed more than one mind . There was no league, according to the maniacal genius Moriarty. Were they even a League now, or just a collection of "freaks" as Skinner reminded them often. A different sort of mystery, wasn't it?

Nemo ordered the door opened, it shuddered for a second before successfully falling into position as a reinforced gangway plank. A pair of carriages, emblazoned with the mark of the secretive order stood waiting in the rain. Mina sighed inwardly, looking skyward. _Typical London day_. A squat man in a twill jacket managed to stop gawking at the ship long enough to wave the carriages closer to the pier. The group had brought only one umbrella between them, Mina's. Being them gentlemen they were, they allowed her the privilege of staying dry underneath it's canopy. Skinner adjusted his hat and brought the collar up higher and started out.

The little man had jumped down from his perch with the driver to meet them. Skinner looked him over. Upon closer inspection, the little man had a very British moustache just under his slightly bulbous nose. His hair was graying, but something in his eye said he was still keen. "I take it you're the welcome wagon, then?"

He smiled tightly as the rest of the group approached. "Mrs Harker..gentlemen, introductions will be made upon arrival. Please." He motioned to them to get into the carriages, which they gladly took. Mina took the carriages in the lead, as well as Sawyer and Jekyll. Jekyll offered the younger man the door first, all too well knowing where he would have to sit while Nemo, Skinner, and the squat, albeit unknown man took the second. The two drivers cracked their whips and the large horses trotted off into the city proper. Traveling at sea for half a year had made them forgot the cobblestone streets of civilization. Nemo looked like he was about to be sick. The man across smiled as he looked out the fogging glass window into the rain. "Ah, London." Nemo kept his gorge down by sheer force of will.

"Yes, London."


	2. Ye who enter here

Wee! Thanks to Faust, Nicky007, Silent Bob546, and Sawyer Fan for the reviews! Please stay tuned! Please, check out their stories as well!

The old nag trotted up to the grand stairs of the old museum, followed a few seconds later by its partner. Tom Sawyer looked out the grimy glass portal. Only an American could be bored within ten minutes of arrival. His own country had not bored him so much. _I guess it's called the 'Old World' for a reason…_A yawn accidentally escaped him.

"Are you alright, Agent Sawyer?" Mina queried. Her blue eyes shifted quickly to him, her pale face followed.

He did not return the look, still staring at the massive building, counting the steps by twos. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired, is all." _Tired of something…_

The woman arched an eyebrow and directed it toward Dr Henry Jekyll as if asking what he knew of the young man's malady. He looked in Sawyer's direction, to see if his actions were being watched, and returned his gaze back to her with a subtle shrug as his diagnosis.

The little man had vacated the second carriage and was walking briskly towards them. The passengers rounded up their belongings as the lacquered door swung open, the cool rain dropped the temperature a bit as it rushed into the carriage. Sawyer was the first out, putting on his duster in the rain. Mrs Harker exited next, assisted by the man in the twill suit and opened her umbrella, accidentally hitting the doctor in the face as it swung behind her. She turned around and grimaced a bit in apology, but was waved off by him.

Nemo and Skinner met them as they all ascended the steps, sixteen on each level as was noted by Sawyer. The museum was one the largest building in London, apart from the Exchange and Buckingham, of course. The gargoyles that kept watch bared their teeth, frightening off pigeons for the most part. The doors were just massive, protecting the treasures within like a vault. Inside the floors were of carefully polished marble, the veins in it sprawled across the floor up into the walls. What little sunlight there was shone through the high windows. Glass cases housed curious artifacts, a wide brimmed hat and whip here. A section of wood with a golden coin hammered into it and the head of a spear of some kind, ruddy with blood sat across the floor in another case. The place never ceased to amaze, even the squat benefactor looked humbly at the collection.

"You mind telling us who you are now?" The thief blurted out suddenly, causing a cavernous echo. Jekyll, correcting the time on his watch, jumped and snapped it shut. Nemo stood near a display of swords, and silently sized up the man.

He removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his brow. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry. My name is John H. Watson, Doctor of Medicine. I am the Head of the", he cleared his throat authoritatively here, "organization known as the 'League of Extraordinary Gentlemen' and curator of this wing."

"So how was Moriarty able to infiltrate and lure us all here?" the Indian captain asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He had already taken the bait once with the promise of amnesty and would not fall in again so easily.

Watson shook his head. "I was away in Afghanistan on business, when Professor Moriarty was able to come up with a new identity, M as you knew him. He managed to forge documents attesting to this and bribed those involved in the forgery to the same when questioned."

"Is that all it takes to get into this place?" Sawyer huffed, staring down the curator. Watson chose to ignore the comment and motioned for the rest to follow him. They did cautiously, wondering if his credentials were as solid as the man who first brought them together. The stairwell down into the secret library lay before them, like the cave to Hell.

"Abandon all hope, Henry," came the guttural voice from inside. He had to control himself from flicking the pocket watch open and dug his hands into his pockets instead.

Watson produced a ring of keys of all shapes. A rather sturdy-looking one slid into the keyhole and turned the bolt with a low rumble and the door creaked open. The shadowy bookcases towered over them like sentries of the most holy caliber. The paintings of members shone in the lamplight. Watson went around turning up the lights as the members seated themselves around the large reading table. Mina and Nemo sat next to each other under a portrait of a knight on the left. Watson handed each of the members a leather-bound ledger as he began.

"Even though I do know of Moriarty's death, I should like to know what became of the base."

"It was destroyed," said Mina, pushing the ledger away. "Anything else?"

"What's all this, Watson?" Skinner yawned flipping through the ledger boredly.

"That is your new mission, sir."

"New mission? What kind of wild goose chase will this be? Who are going to be working for now?" Sawyer snapped, slamming the file shut. Jekyll put up a finger to politely warn him and quickly looked away when he saw the lad's arms cross. His temper had been ignited and showed his American defiance by putting his wet boots on the table and leaned back in the chair.

"I understand your reticence, Agent Sawyer. The loss of Mr Quartermain is tragic, but the world does not stop turning for one man, try as you may. Believe me." There was a shared wince among the group at the mention of Quartermain, but they held their peace.

"Now, if you will please look over this." A photograph was the first page. The rubble of a house in the countryside, it seemed. There was one figure, a woman, face unseen, who was presumably weeping into her skirts. "This was taken in France, a small hamlet outside of Lyon. Locals there believed the house was 'taken' by some supernatural force. Rumors of evil magic and nonsense brought about the destruction of the house. Burned to the ground in the middle of the night." He turned the page quickly and the others followed his example.

It was another photograph. "This is Richard Gevaudan." The image seemed to be snarling, like the man objected to having his likeness taken. He was wearing a dark suit and bowler, carrying a stick. "His family was driven out of that house the night it was burned when he was a child someone decades ago. He has taken up new residence in Paris. He is the one you are after, lady and gentlemen."

Skinner laughed a little. "I'd be a bit cranky, too if someone torched my flat. What's he done in gay ol' Paris?"

"Perhaps the following pictures will explain," Watson gravely uttered. He did not look down at the dossier. Mina gasped and attention turned toward her. She was returning to the last page, not wanting to look. The men at the table knew she was nigh unflappable, so what ever it was must have been truly horrific.

"I'll take your word for it," Skinner said knitting whited eyebrows.

"What you saw, Mrs Harker, is -was- what was found left of one family. Papers found in the home declare them as the Valois. The house was also destroyed quite beyond repair as well, some sort of airborne toxin prevented further inspection. There are pictures of the outcome of that if you have the stomach for it." Not one of them did since none of them had moved. "You will rendezvous with another member of the League, a Mr Henry Clerval. He should have more information for you."

"When do we leave?" the doctor asked, sorrow tingeing his words. He hadn't seen London in some time and was feeling a bit put off about being shipped back to Paris so quickly.

"As soon as possible," declared Watson. Jekyll mouth tightened into a forced smile and glared at the dossier. _That's what I was afraid of_, he sighed to himself. Edward was too busy laughing to come up with some grotesque remark.

"I will need to have you things brought back to you rooms, it seems," Nemo declared at length. The re-instated League stood wary of the new mission.

"Please, you must see that he is stopped," the rotund curator implored. "There is no telling how far this will go." They looked among themselves and left, climbing the flight back to the main floor.

"Well, he seems like a barrel of laughs. Perhaps just a barrel," Skinner quipped. No one laughed. Sawyer rolled his eyes.

The large doors opened once again. It had stopped raining for the moment. The buildings facing them were smeared in wet ash from smoke brought down by the rain. It looked like they were oozing bile. This was home of industry now. The old ways were beginning to break under the mechanized weight of the new. Nemo's auto-mobile was not the only one of its kind anymore. "It's probably just some silly fashion," Sawyer drawled, crawling into the carriage. He didn't see Nemo's narrowing eyes as he strolled toward the other. Mina and Jekyll exchanged exasperated glances as he allowed her to board. She sat opposite the volatile youth, and turned toward the window. It was obvious she did not want to deal with his attitude at the moment. The doctor was glued to the window, trying to take in what scenery there was. _Just a few more days in Paris, then I came come back. It's not so bad as all that._

"Isn't it?" Hyde whispered in the reflection. Jekyll sighed and turned, his limited sight-seeing ruined by his alter-ego. Sawyer, whom he sat next to, was picking at his fingernails with his Secret Service badge moodily. He wrinkled his nose disapprovingly and saw out of the corner of his eye, Mrs Harker was wearing the same expression. Jekyll thought he saw the woman's eye began to burn that terrifying red they all feared. He cleared his throat audibly to distract her from ripping the boy's heart out. She blinked and her eyes had chilled blue again, rage swallowed down. _I couldn't say I blame her. She must be famished._ The boy never looked up.

The hacks made it back to the wharf within a quarter of an hour, held up slightly by the bustle of city streets. The drivers were tipped and sent on their way. Nemo ordered the bags and trunks returned to the respective rooms. A couple of crew members muttered something in Hindu as they grabbed the cases.

"We'll serve dinner presently," said the captain. "I believe lobster thermadore tonight. I'll send for you all at the proper time."

Nina held her head up. "I don't think I shall join you for supper, Captain. My apologies." The others knew this common excuse from their female compatriot. She was "dining out", as Skinner put it crudely. Captain Nemo bowed in understanding wordlessly and retired as did the rest.

She was left standing at the pier as she watched them board the Nautilus. She admired her host for such an achievement. _How could one man have come up with this; so luxurious, so meticulous?_ Mina had never seen the plans for it, but they must have been magnificent.

It was almost four o'clock, post meridian. The sun had another three hours in the sky before she would be able to feed unobserved. She wondered if seeing the estate would be too much for her today. Mina put a hand to her neck and winced a little at the memory. _No, perhaps not today. There will a time for that later._

The thought stayed with her as she made her way toward the center of the city, the park. It was quite a hike, but Mrs Harker enjoyed not staring at the sloping inner wall of the nearly empty ship. She never imagined how much she would miss the dull roar of London. A small dog started to follow her along the way, yapping alongside. Its coat was yellow, like old lace that was white once upon a time but now faded. Mina smiled briefly and kept walking.

"Watch out, Lady!" A shrill voice called out. She turned just in time to see a rag ball come flying inches from her nose. A little boy with sandy hair and a cap came running up to claim it. "Sorry, Missus."

"Be more careful next time," she warned. She thought about doing the boy a grievous harm, but she wasn't that bad inside, she didn't think. The boy scampered off to the other side of the street to resume the game with his friend.

It was dark by the time she reached the park. She was slightly out of breath and took a well-needed respite on a bench over looking a gardened area. The colors were muted in the dying light, but she was happy to see something not flowing in a wave. She leaned to one side and picked one, twirling it in a gloved hand. A few of the lamplighters were still at work, making their way ten meters at a time. There was a thump as someone plunked down besides her.

"'Allo, Miss. 'Ow does this evening find you?" She could smell the bourbon on his breath before her eyes fell on him. His eyes were bloodshot and the corpuscles on his nose had almost all burst. He seemed about forty, but the widow was never good at guessing ages.

"Quite well, sir. And yourself?" He put an arm around her casually. She was just another fellow at the pub.

"Better now."

She smiled delicately at him. "I know I am," she hissed as her canines lengthened. The man's reaction time had been slowed significantly, which was a great boon for her and dove for his throat. The vampire was gulping down the spray of blood as it filled her mouth, like water in a long-sought oasis. His arms stopped flailing after a moment or two, allowing her to enjoy her meal. She drank her fill soon and left the body on the bench. Mina pulled out her small hand mirror, calming down after her frenzy. A spot of blood sat taunting her just on the crease of her nose. She dabbed at it with her gloves. The now satiated woman arranged her skirt properly and began the long flight back to the ship.

Aboard the ship, the male faction of the League were coping with their new assignment. Scotch had been brought out by an attendant and set in front of the doctor and the young American. An overturned glass righted itself and the decanter poured itself a drink. "Can I interest you gents in a little after dinner nip?" Jekyll looked up where Skinner would have been and after a moment's deliberation to himself, nodded. "How about you, boy? You want a drink? Help take the edge off."

Sawyer remained despondent, staring at the red leather cover of the file. "No, I'm alright thanks." He forced a smile. "That lobster filled me up pretty good. I'm just a little worn out from today."

"It's been a trying day for all of us." The three looked up from the table to the doorway where Mina stood. The color had come back to her face and she seemed more calm.

"Catch a bite, did ya?" Skinner asked, arching his brow. It made the agent laugh a bit to himself.

"I did, but I always have room for desert, Mr Skinner." She narrowed her eyes but the lazy smile on her face told she meant nothing by it.

Nemo strolled into the doorway quietly. " Your rooms have been prepared to your liking." As an afterthought he added , "Is that alright with everyone?" He was only expecting an answer from one person in particular. "We'll be crossing the channel in about three-quarters of an hour. Tomorrow we begin our hunt." The rest nodded, seeing they didn't really have much of a say in the matter and the Indian left.

"I should like to get some sleep before arriving. France always drains me," the woman said ironically. "I'll say good evening to you, gentlemen."

Sawyer surprisingly, beat Jekyll to his feet this time and bowed deeply. "Good night, Mrs Harker." The doctor looked at the boy's brazen display and blushed. He simply gave an embarrassed smile and poured himself another drink as Mina went off to her apartment.

"Perhaps young Sawyer here has already had a few glasses with dinner, I imagine," Skinner laughed.

The American spy fell back down into his chair with a sigh, "Not nearly enough." He reached for the remaining glass and poured himself what Jekyll had left of the scotch. "Not nearly enough."

"Tom, would you mind if I took a look at that file? I'd rather like to take a crack at it." the doctor did not usually call people by their first names, but it was probably through the effect of the alcohol. As they knew, anything he ingested went to work quickly.

"Sure thing, Doc." He balanced his drink on the cover as he handed it to the older gentleman and removed it when he had a firm grip on it.

"Think you can handle the photos, Henry?" Skinnerasked cooly,"Or should I ring for some more scotch?"

He had already opened the ledger and perused the pages. The burned remains of the house in Lyon. A remaining pillar had evidence of soot and scorch marks, indeed burned to the ground.

"Isn't it lovely, Henry. Such devastation." The doctor almost answered the horrible response, but pressed on. The photograph of Richard Gevaudan stared back at him. What clues can this picture reveal, he wondered. The man, aside from his sour expression, seemed to be in good health. No distinguishing marks on his face or hands. He was not leaning on the stick as a crutch, so possibly no discernable limp.

"Dog," he blurted out randomly, catching his comrades off-guard.

"Pardon?" The agent asked, not quite sure what he heard. He got up from his seat and stood over the doctor's hunched shoulders.

"A dog. Dog's head. On his walking stick. Just there." Jekyll pointed to the flash of silver underneath the man's palm.

"I can't see anything," Sawyer said, gulping down the rest of his scotch. Jekyll turned around and grabbed the empty glass from his hand.

"Perhaps you're in need of an eye examination," he said, putting the glass on top of the picture. The bottom of the empty glass magnified the picture to where a dog's bared teeth were sticking out between the man's fingers. He looked up at the boy's reaction, quite wide-eyed and frowning approvingly.

"Okay, so…what does that mean?"

Jekyll shrugged. "No idea." He paused for a moment. His finger was slowly slipping under the photograph to reveal the next page. Edward was laughing expectantly waiting to see what carnage the Valois family had experienced. Henry begrudgingly allowed, half excited to see himself. "Oh, dear God."

It was horrific. The throats had been ripped out. Clothing torn savagely. Even with the limited coloring of the modern camera, one could still deduce what the large black puddle on the carpet was. And that wasn't the worst of it.

Sawyer's face blanched. "Their faces…" he trailed off.

Skinner piped up. "What about 'em?"

"They're…gone."

Even the evil killer taking up residence inside the mild doctor was impressed."When we get to Paris, I shall have to up the wager," it growled.

The invisible man gave a low whistle. "And what of the investigators?"

"What?" Agent Sawyer paled considerably.

"Well, Watson said they found them dead a'cause of some toxin or something? C'mon then, turn the page."

Jekyll sucked in a breath and hesitantly turned the page. The investigators were indeed very dead, the pictures taken about two days after, he guessed. The eyes slightly bulged from their heads and dried blood trickled from the corners of the mouths.

"Well, that is odd, isn't it?" Skinner said nonchalantly. "Looks like they've been strangulated."

"By something in the air? A excess of carbon monoxide can cause that," the doctor offered, very much puzzled. "But it doesn't cause the skin to blister like this." They stood regarding it in a horrible fascination when the loud whistle came, signaling the departure. The Nautilus rumbled in compliance and began to pull out of the London port.

"Well, I think I'm gonna turn in now. Need some shut eye before we face anything like that," Sawyer coughed.

"Yes, I think it's best we all do," the doctor said getting up from his seat. He braced himself, feeling a bit sick. "I suppose I'll see you all tomorrow then. Gentlemen." With that he made his way out to the passageway.

Skinner turned a literally blank expression to the American. "Well, this looks like it'll be fun, doesn't it?"


	3. Bandit dans la ville des lumières

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First of all, let me just say wow! I've written fanfics in different genres and headings, but LXG fans are great! Thank you so much, guys! I've never finished anything past a chapter 3 or something cause I didn't think anyone was reading it!. Shoutouts to Sawyer Fan, Silent Bob 453, Faust, and new reader Samyo. 

Also, there may be longer gaps between chapters, since I'll have to go back to University soon, but fear not! I shall try to get something to you every week or so, so please don't give up!

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Nautilus swept along the Channel, silently. The inky night seemed to flee before it and the sea had no choice but be cut by the mighty Sword of the Ocean. The trip would only be two hours across, but the team would take any rest handed them at this point. The captain had fallen asleep in his chair on the bridge, Rad and Nathoo taking the watch. Nemo had not been feeling well lately, and removed himself from the party. The ship needed him to be at his full potential. His first mate, Ishmael had been lost to him through the treachery of that fop, Dorian Gray. Ishmael had been with him since the beginning, since his escape from admiralty laws, almost twenty years ago.

Skinner was surprisingly asleep as well. He had taken to skulking about the passageways at night, lifting what little trinkets the crew had squirreled away. The novelty had worn off somewhere rounding the Cape of Good Hope. The thief was floating in that dream again, the one where he could see his reflection again not painted up like a death mask. He hated that dream with a passion.

Mrs Harker had retired before the others. The man's blood tasted like the cheap drinks he had been buying and it made her feel slightly woozy. She could feel the world spinning around her, even in her sleep. Red eyes watched her as she walked in her garden at night. Johnathan was beside her, holding her around the shoulders.

"Mina, you're chilled to the bone." He undid the buttons and draped it over her.

"Thank you Johnathan, dearest." Even for a woman of her stature, she has to look up to meet her husband's eye. His face was as lovely as ever, those eyes she could get lost in. The stars in the night skies were jealous, throwing themselves from their lofty position to the earth below.

"Mina, darling, I have something to ask you," he whispered.

"What is it?" She could see a flash of fear in his face as he waited for her permission to ask it.

"Wilhemina, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" She blinked, confused. Johnathan was biting his lip, afraid of her answer. The wedding band was missing from her finger, she could feel its absence now. _Not again. Please God, not again…_

"Yes Johnathan. I will marry you." Mina could feel everything slowing down. The small band of gold slid across her finger agonizingly slow. Harker's smile widened like a crack in a dam about to burst. The low rustle came from behind the ancient yew tree once more. This time, she knew what was coming.

Henry was still awake, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, sweating profusely. The case of the terrible vials sat open taunting him a short distance away.

"Let me out, Henry," Hyde's voice whispered in his mind. "You remember Paris, don't you?" Jekyll screwed his eyes shut, trying to escape it. The smell of blood came back at full force, causing him to gag slightly. He tried to place it with some innocuous operation he had performed, but came up with none.

"No! I won't do it again!" he screamed. The doctor turned over and put a pillow over his head, a small boy hiding from the monsters in the darkness. But now, he was the monster in the darkness. He was getting weaker, he could feel it.

"Such restraint. I wonder how long it will last."

"No, Edward, never again!" The feather pillow seemed to bear down on him, slowly sending him into unconsciousness.

_Just let go. Never._

Sawyer was resting peacefully, a welcome change. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the big beautiful sky. He was in his own private Arcadia, the river lazily carrying steamboats down past the big oxbow. The fishing pole was in the water, bobbing slowly from his seat on the pier. It seemed a lot smaller now.

"I always wanted to see the Gulf," he said aloud, watching the boat disappear from sight.

"Why go there? There must a hundred more places better than that." Tom looked behind him, wondering if the heat had finally dried up his brain. There he was, lying on his back, feet black as mud from running around barefoot all the time, hat down over his eyes.

"Huck, you're alive!" he gulped.

"Well, a' course I am, you knot head. Why go to the Gulf o' Mexico?" he repeated.

Tom turned away and looked out across the river, tears in his eyes. "There're pirates there, I hear." There came no response, just the creaking boards shifting as his friend rolled over. A few minutes of silence passed between them. The fish weren't biting today.

"Well, don't that beat all," Huck said breathlessly.

"What is it?" Sawyer looked up from the water to see. It was snowing._ At this time of year?_ The Mississippi began to freeze and crack. A chill swept across his face. "C'mon, let's get outta here." He got to his feet to leave, but his friend wasn't there.

"Get him, boy! He's getting away!"

"Quartermain?" He knew what was going on again. The sunny southern day had become the frozen expanse of Mongolia again.  
"Shoot him!" the adventure wheezed, falling backward onto the rubble. Sawyer's fishing pole had become the weapon that would take down the figure running across the snow drifts. He raised the rifle to his eye and cocked it. "You've got all the time in the world."

Sawyer closed his eyes. "I know."

There was a shrill whistle that sent him hurtling backwards. His room. The American looked about for a second before realizing his hands were still holding the imagined rifle. A tear was caught in his eye. "I know." He got out of bed and wobbled to the washbasin to splash water on his red face. He stared at himself in the mirror, trying to see what was wrong with him. A steward knocked on his door.

"We've arrived, Agent Sawyer," he called through the door.

"Thank you," he responded, clearing his throat. Whatever awaited them on this journey was going to get it. _In spades._

When he reached the cargo bay, the others were already there. Sawyer put on a smile and swallowed a yawn.  
"G'morning, everybody," he said, catching his beleaguered league members off-guard. "Are we ready to get this done?"

Jekyll, pale and wan, looked up from his pocket watch. "I certainly hope so, Agent Sawyer."

"Looks like some woke up on the right side of the bed today," Skinner joined in.

The American nodded, not about to reveal his dream. Nemo shouted the command to open the cargo bay door once again. The sun hit them right in the eyes. Mina was forced to open her umbrella quickly as a shield. Paris had not changed much, but it was only a year since they had seen it last. The smell of the channel flooded the deck as they exited. A crew member revved the engine of Nemo's automobile and drove it down to the pier. It had been rebuilt from the original schematics, the first vehicle lost in Venice. Nemo remembered he had never forgiven Sawyer for that, but now was not the time for holding grudges.

"I'll drive, " he announced before the young agent had a chance to pipe up. The rest of the team climbed into the car, Mina took Nemo's usual passenger-side seat up front. The auto carriage roared again as they began their way to the prescribed rendezvous.

Skinner squirmed in his seat. "So does anyone know anything about this Clerval character? I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one fed up with surprise appearances."

"He's a scientist," Henry ventured warily, as if he didn't like the sound of another scientist joining the group. "Main field of experience was electricity, I think." The gentleman thief held his tongue, saving his barbs for introductions.

It was just now eight o'clock, and the city of lights was already wide-awake it seemed. Carts were crawling along tortuously slow, horses and mules already tired from pulling the heavy wares and good behind them. Nemo wrapped his hands around the turning wheel and clenched his teeth. "There will be a day when common animals will not be fit to be on city streets, but machines like this," he muttered rather loudly.

Sawyer looked sideways. "Yeah, and Man will fly."

"Some of us already do," Mina purred, not turning her head. The boy opened his mouth to fire back, but opted against it. Skinner chuckled to himself quietly.

"Where are we meeting him?" Nemo asked.

Sawyer leaned forward and pulled the ledger book from behind his back. "The Eiffel tower."

"I haven't seen it. It wasn't finished last time I came here," Mina said.

Jekyll sighed, staring at the back of her head. "It's beautiful."

"Especially when the bodies hit the ground below," Hyde added, unnoticed, except by his host. The watch came out of its seclusion once again.

Nemo made a left and followed the road to the iron wrought marvel looming over the city. It was enormous even from a distance and seemed it would topple over at any given gust of wind. "Why would he meet us here, out in the open like this?" Sawyer said getting out of the auto when it stopped. Women and children were laughing and running about in shadow of the tower.

"Perhaps it's safest here," Nemo offered, but he didn't believe it either. The League members didn't have to go far before-

"Henry! Henry Jekyll? Is that you?"

He saw a man waving him arm trying to attract his attention. The doctor's first response was to run. There was not a good history here either. But when he saw whose arm it was, he calmed down a bit. "Henry Clerval?"

The man nodded to the affirmative. Clerval jogged a little ways to where the Team stood. "Christ, Clerval, why don't you try shouting a little louder, I don't think America heard you," Skinner spat.

The liaison stared at him curiously. "Nice to not see you either, Mr Skinner. Come I will show you to our chambers."

Mina glanced around her. "But Mr -excuse me- Doctor Clerval, there are nothing but fairgrounds here.

He smiled to himself and raised a finger. "Up there, Mrs Harker. Our meeting will commence at the top." All of them looked up, shielding their eyes from the sun's reflection off the steel frame. "If you will all follow me please, we can get underway." There was an elevator masked by one of the legs. Clerval ushered them all aboard and the wrought-iron screen closed. Sawyer drew in a breath as the small cage was propelled upwards along a track under the sloping base rocking with the wind.

"Are you alright, Agent Sawyer?" Clerval asked.

The lad nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Oh good. Don't worry. This lift to the top is safe," Clerval added, surmising Sawyer's nerves were being played by the heights. The rooftops of Paris were soon visible and then entire neighborhoods were seen. They passed the observation deck and continued skywards.

The journey ended with a sudden jolt as the lift came to a stop. Clerval opened the gate and let them out. All stood for a moment trying to get a bearing on where they were. The tower creaked below their feet and Nemo swore for a moment he felt it sway. "Right here, if you don't mind," he said, herding them into a small office. It was well furnished, no bigger than one's drawing room parlor. Seats had evidently been brought up for the meeting since they did not exactly match the décor. 

"May I offer anyone a drink?" he said, spinning a globe around, revealing it was a rather well stocked cocktail cabinet.

"Sherry, if you've got it, Clerval," Skinner announced, rather liking this man already. Their host smiled and fished out a decanter and a snifter. He looked to the rest, who did not want anything at the moment.

"Well," he sighed, handing off the sherry, "let's get down to business. Richard Gevaudan is on the verge of a very large breakthrough and a very large problem for the rest of the world. He and a team of scientists have managed to make some kind of deadly compound that when inhaled or even coming in contact with human skin, causes a slow and painful death. Our agents investigating the scene-"

"We saw the pictures, Clerval," Jekyll broke in, trying to get him not to continue. The memory of throttling that poor girl just outside that window was beginning to choke him as well.

"Then you know how dangerous this is for you. We haven't been able to determine what it is exactly. Mrs Harker, Dr Jekyll; your efforts will be life-saving should you be able."

"So what about the rest of us? Are we just supposed to sit and wait while these two play with chemistry sets?" Skinner huffed.

"Really, Mr Skinner, are you so keen on seeing action?" Mina gravely warned.

"You will have plenty to do, all of you," Clerval quickly added. He did not need a division in the team so early on. "Tonight you'll have to infiltrate his house and bring back the plans. Once Gevaudan knows you are inside, you will have little chance of escape, so stealth is paramount."

"Oh goody, I'm useful again."

"Shut up, Skinner," Nemo bit.

"Should you come across Gevaudan, eliminate him immediately."

"We'll do all we can, Dr Clerval," The American vowed.

"Does this chemical," Jekyll began, "or whatever it is, I'm sure someone is wanting it produced, correct?"

Clerval reproached him. "Of course! What man produces something so deadly for no purpose whatsoever?" Hyde's reflection was staring at his alter-ego from the bottle of wine, grinning slyly and raising his brutish hand. The doctor sucked in his cheeks and turned away.

Nemo looked out the window to the world below. _Why must Man use science to destroy others instead of using it for the greater good? Such knowledge should have never come down from the heavens or up through the earth._

"Time is of the utmost importance," Clerval lowered his voice. "The world is counting on The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen."

"Again," retorted Skinner reaching for the sherry.


End file.
